


Door Keepers

by Fad1ng



Category: Undertale (Video Game), 我有一座恐怖屋
Genre: A lot of murder, Gore, Murder, supernatural stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27796270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fad1ng/pseuds/Fad1ng
Summary: Death is a peculiar event.What lies behind the door of death is unknown to the masses, and those who seek to unveil the mystery are forgotten with their truth.It is the symbol of fear, but many can’t help to become curious.  It is the embodiment of despair, but those who are hopeful are desperate to know the new beginning.  It is inevitable, often horrible.  But to some, that’s what makes death beautiful.For those who are determined to seek vengeance in the living world, a Door might appear to grant their Keepers the ability avoid a complete death until their purpose has been fulfilled.  How will the Underfell monsters fare on the surface after escaping from a Door that has been closed for far too long?
Kudos: 1





	1. The Birth of a Door Keeper

**Author's Note:**

> “I should finish my existing fics before starting a new one.”

Death is a peculiar event.

What lies behind the door of death is unknown to the masses, and those who seek to unveil the mystery are forgotten with their truth. 

It is the symbol of fear, but many can’t help to become curious. It is the embodiment of despair, but those who are hopeful are desperate to know the new beginning. It is inevitable, often horrible. But to some, that’s what makes death beautiful. 

It’s not everyday that one gets to interact and observe the process of death, so every case must be given the utmost attention. 

Tonight, the target is a human orphanage. After its transformation, the dull, unnecessary orphanage shall transcend into art. The building and its people within will find true purpose with the assistance of their death. 

The sweet smell of hot blood, just moments ago running through the veins of a living person began to permeate the area. Fear and despair, lovely emotions that signifies the coming of death come together to create a grand symphony in celebration of the orphanage’s rebirth. 

“What a sight to behold!”. Must be the thoughts of the event’s participant, as they worked harder to continue the magic of their new festival. 

Time is such a precarious concept when death is involved. For the sufferings, it seems like eternity. And for others, only a moment has passed. 

No one can accurately tell how long it has passed, but the orphanage is reduced to silence eventually. The once crowded living quarter lost its past vitality, and the library has never been as non disturbed as now. Every part of the building has been banished. No sound, no life, not even a bug to be seen. 

Everywhere, except one room.

A girl, no older than a teenager, is hiding in the corner of the director's office. The office that once represents the highest authority of her world, the office that once hosted a man that she entrusted her well being with, is providing little comfort from what she has seen today. 

She kept a hand covering over her mouth, as if trying to mute herself from reality.

She kept her eyes tightly shut, as if trying to erase the carnage that she unfortunately had to witness. 

She even curled up into a ball, as if making herself smaller will grant her invisibility against the intruders.

But all her efforts were in vain, the noise of her violently shaking body against the floor is clear as day in an environment of complete and utter silence. 

Tick Tock

That’s the sound of an intruder’s accessory clashing against each other, but for the girl, it is the sound of her approaching demise. 

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock

The sound paused outside the director’s office, but the girl dared not to raise her head. 

“Look at me, young lady. It is awfully rude to greet your guests in such a unwelcoming manner.”

Although the girl had no intention of obeying to the intruder’s order, some strange force in their voice willed her head upwards. 

“Open your eyes.”

The girl opened her eyes. It is a pair of eyes that lost all their color and hope, only managing to produce droplets of tears involuntarily sliding down her face. 

The intruder placed their hand under her chin, and continued to observe every feature the girl’s countenance had to offer. In this moment, one would be led to think that the intruder is examining the intricate details of a valuable artwork. Each glance is filled with inquisitiveness and passion, each motion characterized by caution and care. At the end, the intruder took back their hand in an elegant swipe. The last action, both graceful and swift, can be compared to that of a violinist ending the performance with an upward stroke. However, this seemingly innocent and classy move left a deep slice on the girl’s throat, ready to fulfill what fate has ordered to happen. 

The intruder left the girl in her last moments.

Blood began pouring down her body, dyeing her once Snow White dress with an alluring dark red. She can sense her life slipping away from her body, but any effort she tried to stop the process seemed futile. Her skin can feel the temperature of her own blood, hot and humid. But no matter what kind of warmth the blood is providing, they can’t fix the intense cold felt throughout her body. 

Finally, she just sat there, accepting the end of her life. A million thoughts came across her mind, grief for destruction of her new family, confusion towards the purpose of these senseless murder, and fear to the next and final event that will happen to her. Most prevalent of all, however, is hatred. Hatred against the intruders for what they did, hatred against fate for allowing this to happen, hatred against the world for abandoning her. 

The girl’s blood now made a small puddle around her, and she can feel her consciousness fading away. In her last few seconds of clarity, the entire office became blood red in her view, and she can swear that the office door moved a bit closer to her. 

“Strange,” is all that the girl thought to herself, but she did not pay attention to it. 

Steadily, however, the door moved closer and closer to the girl, until reaching a position where any moments would allow her to touch the doorframe. The door itself, as opposed to the oak brown that it used to possess, now painted in a shade of unsettling red that resembled the puddle on the floor. 

For some unknown reason, the girl knew that the door was absorbing her blood, and inviting her to push open it. Perhaps what’s waiting behind the door is the heaven that many talked about, or it could be the hell that is said to bring eternal punishment to its denizens. 

Whatever it is, the girl did not fight against her dying heart’s desire to enter the closed door, and pushed it open with all her remaining strength. And thus, with all her hatred for the intruders and world, a new Door Keeper is born.


	2. Alleyway Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow chapter.

Walking down the empty street during a winter night, Sans couldn’t but feel a little depressed about how life has been for him lately. 

The first few months on the surface has taken a toll from the initial excitement Sans had after leaving Mt. Ebott. Monster’s violent and rude behaviors earned them a bad reputation amongst humans, making holding any job positions and running daily errands much harder than they should be. 

Sans doesn’t feel that the big, easily noticeable sign of “No Monsters Allowed” that appears on most businesses’ front window to be very fair. But then again, maybe capturing an ambassador and then “torture” them for informations of the human kingdom is a bad idea, when the monsters are trying to incorporate themselves into a new society. 

Now Sans is without a source of income, rejected from every job on the planet that he applied for, and couldn’t even find a store that’s willing to sell him alcohol. 

Yep, life on the surface sucks ass. 

Tonight, Sans decided to venture further out to find a monster-friendly bar or liquor store. He is usually too lazy to walk to anywhere that takes longer than 10 minutes, but all the shit he had to deal with recently, his desire for alcohol miraculously won out against laziness. 

“‘nother asshole bar.” Sans mumbled as he walked past the seventh new bar he found that day. For the last hour, Sans has been aimlessly searching around the city with no reward, and his patience is running thin. “Two more turns, if I can’t get any alcohol I’ll just go bother good ol’ Grillby again.”

Sans wasn’t actually sure if he would do what he said. The previous time he attempted to teleport out some mustard shots from Grillby’s personal stash, the fire monster almost burned down an entire street trying to find him. But hey, at this point Sans suspects that he might be desperate enough to go through that experience again. 

“Let’s hope things don’t get to that point.” Sans half prayed as he turned into a shallow and dim alleyway. At the very end of said street, Sans saw lights coming from what seems like the only occupied building. As he got closer, Sans eventually identified the structure to be a bar—a very old one. Opposed to the other stores Sans came across earlier, there are no flashy signs to tell the purpose of their existence and preferences in choice of customers. All Sans managed to find is a wooden board carved with the word “Alcohol” to identify the building as a bar. 

“This one should be alright.” Admittedly it is a bit weird that this bar is located where a normal person would probably avoid, but Sans has no room to be picky. With a deep breath to prepare himself for the worst, Sans pushed open the wooden door. 

The bar itself is quite small, and only hosted 7 or 8 people when Sans came in. It surprised him somewhat when Sans noticed that the lighting source of the store came from a fireplace and dozens of candles dispersed throughout the limited space, no electrical anything to be found. 

Everyone glanced over towards the entry as Sans stepped into the bar, and he spotted visible awe and uneasiness from the patrons. Ignoring the looks that he had received countless times over the past few months, Sans plopped down in the corner of a long row of seats placed in front of the bartender. 

“Order?” The bartender came over to Sans and began taking out a glass bottle from the lower drawer. He’s a man in his early 30s, the dim candlelight made it hard for Sans to make out his exact facial features. 

“Ya have mustards?” 

The bartender seemed taken aback by Sans’ request, but quickly returned to his nonchalant look. “We don’t serve meals, so we are not stocked up on condiments.”

“Shame.” Sans expected this, only a crazy drunk like Grillby would think to add a little more punch to their condiments. “Just give me your specialty then.”

While the bartender went to make his drink, Sans took a moment to more closely examine the bar. The other patrons on the side table clearly lowered their volumes after Sans’ arrival, shooting nervous looks at him occasionally. Besides that, an advertisement pinned on the tiny billboard to his left managed to catch his attention. 

‘Haunted House—Cursed Orphanage, Now Hiring for Actors, Available 24/7.’

Before he could get a better look at the address, the bartender placed a glass bottle in front of Sans. The drink is bright red with flowing particles of orange contained in the center, it’s irregular movements imitating that of a sparkling fire camp. Impressed by the look of his drink, Sans placed the class next to his mouth and took a sip of the alcohol. The liquid is hot when going down his (throat?), and the once concentrated temperature immediately immersed themselves into Sans’ body, providing every inch of his bone a warming sensation. 

“What is this?” Sans’ voice is coated heavily in amazement, he had never had a drink that gives such an unique experience before, whether it’s made by monsters or humans. 

“It’s called ‘Fire’, I only make it during cold weather. It will be removed from our menu once spring comes.” The bartender introduced in a calm and steady manner, as if expecting Sans to be acting the way he did. 

Taking another sip of the drink, Sans felt his entire body starting to relax. All the stress and exhaustion building up inside of him are slowly dissipating. Letting out a comfortable groan, Sans rested his head on the counter to best savor the moment. 

After fifteen minutes of going through the drink, Sans took his last sip and looked up at the bartender, who had not averted his attention elsewhere the entire time. Following the bartender’s vision, Sans suddenly realized that he is not really staring at him, but rather his outfit. Come to think of it, Sans recalled that the customers were sending looks at his red furry jacket instead of directly at him. This is coming off as rather suspicious, since Sans couldn’t think of a reason why this would be the case. Sure, his jacket is a bit more expressive and edgy than what people usually wear, but it should not overshadow the fact that Sans is a living skeleton. 

“So, is that haunted house thing still hiring?” Sans decided to break the silence, making a quick gesture towards the advertisement. 

“I believe so.” The bartender responded, but his gaze still fixed on Sans. “I also believe that you would make a great addition to their rosters.” 

The corner of Sans’ perpetual grin twitched slightly, why the hell is this bartender staring at him like that? Even the most curious person Sans had ever met in the past would have moved on to greater and better subjects after so long… At least the bartender doesn’t seem to dislike him, Sans really can’t be requesting for more than that in the current situation. 

This new observation relieved Sans’ discomfort somewhat, and gave him the idea to try something he used to do underground. “Say, pal, how about you open a tab for me? I’ll pay for the drink after I get the job.” Sans didn’t actually expect the bartender to agree, after all, this is the first time at the bar. But money is a little tight for the skeleton at the moment, and any savings he can make is appreciated. 

To Sans’ astonishment, the bartender slowly nodded to his proposal after only a moment of hesitation. But right before Sans left his seat, the bartender put a halt to his action and placed a bronze necklace in front of him. 

“What’s this? I thought you agreed to opening a tab?” 

Ignoring Sans’ confused and slightly annoyed tone, the bartender simply pushed the necklace closer to Sans. “You don’t need to pay. But for exchange, give this to the haunted house owner when you meet her.” 

“That’s all?” Sans scooped up the necklace to look at it more closely. It looks like ancient, the small scratch marks covering a woman’s face on the centerpiece adding a historical feel to the accessory. “Sure, I’ll give it to her.” 

As Sans is walking out of the bar, he once again sensed multiple gazes locked onto his attires. Not delaying any longer, Sans stepped out into the alleyway, leaving the confusing interactions in the bar behind him.


End file.
